


Songfic Collection

by Epicenter



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentions of terrorist acts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epicenter/pseuds/Epicenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Song-fics that I wrote. No lyrics used. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Concrete Swan Dive

**Author's Note:**

> Got 5 of these ready. Will update as quick as I can.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allesa was having a good day until she saw something emerge from the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Concrete Swan Dive - Thank You Scientist
> 
> I can't quite remember, but I think this takes place after "Flying Mind."

Allesa sat down near the edge of her rooftop and stared out at the sky, admiring the view. She really shouldn't be up here, considering that her apartment had rules against this sort of things, but she couldn't resist. Sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) the sky was a bit sick looking, but today it was downright gorgeous. It was so blue and the clouds formed beautiful shapes.

She had just finished rehearsing at the theater. Allesa had high hopes of being a big, Broadway star, and this was the start of it. She was an extra on the next big Broadway play that would be opening tomorrow. Yeah, extra wasn't exactly leading role, but she was in it and people would get to hear her voice. A voice that would, in her honest (and incredibly bias) opinion, make angels jealous.

She stoped self-indulging in her thoughts and went back to looking at the sky, brushing away her long, black-and-blue hair to get a better look at it. The hair was always a bit of a problem, making her lose her step a few times, but she didn't care. It made her lithe form looked beautiful, once again, in her humble (and very, very bias) opinion. She really loved her hair. Sort of like how Isadora Duncan loved her scarves, which remind her that she also hoped to be as well-known as her.

She thought about life as she stare at the blue sky, thinking about her life and what she could change. Not much, honestly. Yeah, her parents had a divorce, but that's nothing special. Lots of people get divorces these days. She did well enough in school, getting Bs and Cs along with the rare D ever couple hears or so, particularly in Science and Math. What could she say; she wasn't a very brainy person.

She gets emails from her family on whatever social networking site they use. They sometimes prefer different ones, so she had to make different accounts to talk to them back at Iowa. She talked with her parents and her older sibilings, telling them how great New York was and telling them about this play.

She heard a creak behind her and looked at the door, wondering if anybody was there. She saw no one and exhaled a breath of air she didn't know she was holding. It was just the wind, trying to scare the living shit oh here. This wasn't the first time that it's done it either. Someone should really get that door checked out.

She turned back to the sky and surprise, along with a bit shock surrounded from here. Emerging from the clouds was a giant ship. What. The. Fuck. She tried to rationalize this. Why in the hell was there a giant ship that in no way looked human flying towards New York. Scared and somewhat intrigued by it, she stood up to get a better looked at it, her hair getting in the way a little bit. She wiped the hair away, not taking care to notice that she was taking a step off the roof onto thin air.

She immediately fell downward, unable to scream at the shock of it all. She only had a few seconds of though left. 9.81 meters per second squared. That was the force of gravity pulling her down along with your mass, she remembers as it was one of the first thing her physics teacher drill into her head. She thought very quickly about her family, about her fail dreams, and about that damn ship. The ship that cause her death. She'll never figure out if that was real or not.

Before she could think of anything else, she completed her concrete swan dive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I created a OC just to kill her. I don't care. I mainly did this because I call bullshit on no humans sawing them emerge on New York.


	2. Cosmical Beggining (Air)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin of Earth and Cybertron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Cosmical Beginning (Air) - NAMI
> 
> I wanted to familarize myself on the background of Prime, so I did this.

The universe was once nothing, but a void. There was no direction, no sound, no colors, nothing. It was nothing but a blank canvas, waiting to be use. One day, the universe begun. Atoms formed, forming the building blocks of life. From then on, it just kept building to more complex forms, but not forming sentient organisms.

Until one day, according to Cybertronian Scientist, a spark formed. A single sparked created, by unknown means. The spark was created, and metal formed around it. However, sometime during the process, the sparks spilt and the sparks would formed two separate entities that were spilt-spark twins.

Metal continue to form around the metal, making the two mechanical corganisms progressively bigger. They continue to formed humanoid shape, both easily able to match the planet, Cybertron, in size. The two beings would be called Primus and Unicron eons later by Cybertronians.

The two formed to different mindsets. Primus wanted the Universe to expand and take form, while Unicron wanted to destroy before it was made. Naturally, the two fought a strggle for control. While this was going on, a metallic planet was forming from their battles.

Primus, while in a pause of the eons long battle between the two, notice this, and decided to help the planet by forming the core of it. Unicron, upon figuring this out, rushed toprevent this, but by the time he had arrived, the planet was already formed and Cybertron was made. Furious at this, Unicron attacked Cybertron.

Primus, in retaliation, created the Thirteen. The Thirteen fought Unicron and eventually defeated him. Unicron was in a state of unconsciousness at the end of the battle and was drifting through the cosmos. Eventually, materials started to formed around his body into a spherical form called Earth.

This was the cosmical beginning of Cybertron and Earth


	3. Antagonist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron will let nothing stand in between him and his antagonist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Antagonist - Neurotech
> 
> Character study on Megatron.

Megatron thought about his antagonist with contempt. Every time he was close to ending this war, Optimus Prime was there to defy him and keep away his rightful title as Prime away from him. From the very beginning of the rebellion when the Senators had picked _him_ over himself to very end of this war right here on this pathetic planet called Earth.

But now? With the power of Unicron, he had Optimus Prime on his knees. Megatron had realized a long time ago that the title of Prime was inconsequential. It was only a rank given to someone, not a real show of how good at battle they were and this prove it. But right as he was about to finish him off, Prime's follower's came from the ground bridge and saved him before he could deliver the fatal blow. This showed Megatron that Prime's followers were also a threat, particularly the green one and his tendency to survive fatal situations.

Of course he was upset about that at first, but then he realizes he had something Optimus Prime didn't have: Dark Energon, a whole volcano that was spewing it. Unicron was definitely smiling at him at this moment. The war with Prime was about to end and Megatron was going to be the one that won.

But then, he got this vision of Earth exploding. This wasn't exactly a good thing. He needed this planet to prove his dominance to this universe. Why was it shown being destroyed? He wondered about it as the Vehicons kept getting Energon. Why? He realized something at that moment. Unicron was giving him these visions, so maybe he could give an answer, along with helping to destroy Prime once and for all.

So he went to the lip of the volcano and beckon Unicron to speak to him. He did and was not met with an answer he was expecting. He was not satisfied with all that he accomplished. He felt Optimus Prime and consider me a failure for not extinguishing his spark and killing the prime legacy, a legacy he helped with by killing Zeta Prime. He belittleed him and consider him a waste of air.

It was at that moment that Megatron realized that he had one more antagonist to deal with. Unicron expected him to be a weak, pathetic follower and follow him mindlessly as he destroy this planet, the planet that was rightfully _his._ Well, unfortunately for Unicron, he wasn't. He's was another antagonist in his way of ruling the universe and had to be taken care of.

But he couldn't do it by himself. He needed the help of one individual that could actually defeat Unicron. The one who held the Matrix of Leadership. The one who was a constant bane throughout the war was going to be his tool to solve this problem.

Optimus Prime, his one and true antagonist.


	4. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock Out muses to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Out of Sight, Out of Mind - The Reign of Kindo
> 
> Takes place after season 2 finale. Written arounf that time, too.

Honestly, Knock Out didn't feel like doing anything today. Yes, nothing. No working, no walking around the ship, not even buffing his pristine paint job. Yes, today, today… he just wanted to stay in his berth and do nothing. He wanted to act like one of those earth animals, what were they called… sloth. Yes sloth. Just laying around, doing nothing. It would be nice.

So he did. It's not like there was much need for him right now. The Autobots were now in hiding after the Decepticons had blown up their base and would likely not be bothering them for a long time, if ever. Thanks to that, there was a lack of people wanting help for injuries. That didn't mean there weren't injuries. The day after they destroy the Autobots base, a few of the Vehicons decided to celebrate.

The day after, over 50 Vehicons and Starscream entered his domain for injuries.

After that party, which has since been dub as "The most awesomest party ever," there was a real lack of patients. Only ones that come in were too dumb to live, and those are usually dead before they enter the med-bay (to Knock Out's eternal delight).

So Knock Out just laid in bed, thinking about his other crew members' responses to this. Starscream was the most visually happy of everyone. After all, he was the one that gave the Decepticons a key advantage on Cybertron and had gain part (never all) of his trust back with Megatron. Every time Knock Out sees him walking around, he has a grin on his face. Slag, he even joined the Vehicons in the party (and enter Knock Out's medbay to replace his arm that had fallen out _again_ )!

Which begs the questions of why Soundwave didn't stop the party? Decepticons weren't well known for throwing parties. Maybe he made an exception just this once, in light of the demise of Optimus Prime or maybe he was just using this as blackmail material further on later; wouldn't surprise him either way.

And there was Megatron. It was hard to see sometimes, but he was definitely happy about Optimus' demise. If you were lucky, you could hear him talk to Soundwave about it like a little school girl. Walking around, bragging like he was the shit. Granted, he had very good reason to think he was the shit, but still a bit annoying.

Oh well, it didn't matter to Knock Out. Out of sight, out of mind. If they weren't here bothering him, he might as well just forget about them. And so he did. He just laid there in his berth, thinking about all the good times in his life: graduating from Iacon Medical School, being name one of the best surgeons on Cybertron (yes, he's that good), being name 'Sexiest Mech' on Mexim hot 100 (that was a fun day), and, of course, meeting Breakdown.

Ah, Breakdown.

Of course, it didn't look like that at first. Breakdown, when he first met him, was a neurotic individual. He was always paranoid of the people around him, thinking they were out to get him. It was easy to see why he was a part of the Stunticons A.K.A. the most mentally unbalance group of Decepticons ever. I mean, 'Each member was assign their own personal doctor,' unbalance. Knock Out was assigned to Breakdown and thus began their long friendship.

Knock Out thought about all the times he shared with Breakdown. The first day that Breakdown willingly went to him (which ended with him freaking out at the end of the meeting), the first time Breakdown stick through an entire meeting without freaking out and leaving the room, the first time he stick with him through a crowd, and the first time Knock Out manage to convince him to hand out with his teammates (with very mixed results, but still good.

Yep, there was a lot of good memories and there was only more as Breakdown became less paranoid. He started becoming his medical assistant, he hung out with his teammates without being asked, and actually become a good soldier (and a wonderful bodyguard). Breakdown got better through one method that Knock Out verbally beat into his head.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Very simply, Knock Out made him pretended that nobody was watching him. It didn't work at first, but it started becoming more affective as Knock Out became closer to him. Breakdown just forgot about everything else and concentrated on Knock Out once they got friendly and Breakdown was convince he wasn't out to kill him. Eventually, Knock Out made him add more to his mind, eventually getting use to everybody else. Yeah, it took a long, _long_ time for him to get use to everybody else that was friendly, but he did get better. He was the sanest of the Stunticons.

At least, he was, until Airachnid violently killed him. That title now belongs to Dead End.

Of course, Knock Out didn't believe Breakdown had died yet. No body, no prove. There was numerous times when someone was declare dead without a body being found only for them to show up again sometime again letter, alive and mostly well. This obviously was just one of those times, despite the fact they couldn't find his signal or that Dreadwing heard him let out a scream that sounded like he was being killed, but Knock Out ignore that. There were worse situations that people come out of alive. Heck, Breakdown had even got out of worse situations that just one femme. Of course he was still alive and Knock Out wouldn't think otherwise.

That is, until he met Cylas or Silas or whatever he was called. It didn't matter. Point was, here was this filthy human inside of his friend's corpse, desecrating it and proving to Knock Out that Breakdown was dead. Of course, Knock Out got his revenge on him later that day and it was very interesting. It was interesting how fast a vivisection could turn into a dissection. And all that blood….

Knock Out looked at the other berth in the room; the one that Breakdown used to use. Breakdown and he were partners and they wanted a room together. Starscream concede with his demands and set them up with a room together. The two were very happy about that. The two had many late-night conversations about the current affairs of the ship, mocking the events going on, and sometimes comforting each other over things. The amount of nights that they spent comforting each other rose drastically after Breakdown was vivisected and lost his eye. He didn't have any spare eyes to use, but he could build one. It would just take time. Too much time…

Knock Out got off his berth and headed out of the room and went to the med-bay. He couldn't like at that damn berth anymore right now. He needed to stop thinking about him. He needed to work to get rid of him. Maybe he could ask Starscream or Megatron to move him to a new room. He needed to forget all about Breakdown.

Out of sight, out of mind.


	5. Dope Fiend Rental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're out of money, you got to trade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Dope Fiend Rental - Danny Brown
> 
> This was fun. Anyway, last one for a while. 
> 
> FYI: A dope fiend rental is selling a car for drugs. Since this is transformers, I had to adapt that, but I think I did good. Certainly one of the longest things I've done.

Dredge entered the rundown apartment building, keeping his arms to his chest, trying to keep himself from shaking so much and was holding a box. He was an orange color, but you could hardly tell anymore due to so much of it having been scraped off over the years, leaving little flecks on his body. His internal systems were a mess, having been malnourish over the years. His body looked rusted, ready to fall off, but he had to make it to him.

Dredge walked through the building before reaching the room he was looking for: AG47. He knocked twice in rapid succession, before bringing his hand back to his chest in pain. He had forgotten how much pain knocking can cause in his current state. One of his fingers had already rusted off, and the rest of the joints were on the verge of snapping off as well. While he was resting his thoughts on his broken hands, the slot on the door opened, showing two purple eyes. "Ah, Dredge. Give me a second," the mech said smoothly, before closing the slot. He heard the sound of locks being unlocked on the other side before the door opened up to reveal a purple-and-yellow mech. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I've had better days, Swindle," Dredge replied, his voice a bit hoarse from misuse. He kept fidgeting with the open hole where the finger used to be.

"Well than, come on in. I can make your day better, for a nominal fee, of course," Swindle replied, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter. Dredge entered quickly and Swindle closed the door, and locked the door. "So, what brings you the pleasure of seeing me?" Swindle asked, walking towards a chair behind a desk. The room, unlike the rest of the dump, was very clean and well-organized. Boxes were everywhere, hiding Swindle's goods from public view. The desk and chairs were simple, but well made and looked exceptionally sturdy. He gestured for Dredge to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Dredge did so, sitting in the middle.

"I came to buy some more, uh..." he stammered, not quite wanting to say it out loud. Just saying it made him feel impure.

"Syk," Swindle said, not questioned. Dredge nodded, gruelingly. "Well, I got some good news for you. A new shipment just came in, and I can set you up with as much as you can afford," he replied cheerfully. "So, how much?" he asked.

"I was hoping you help me figure out. I've no more money left to spend, so I was hoping to trade with you," Dredge answered truthfully.

"So that's what the box is for. It's got what you want to trade with, correct?" Swindle asked, leaning in his chair in anticipation.

"Yeah," Dredge said, putting the bag on the table for Swindle to see. Swindle grabbed it and looked at it. It was just a plain box and it didn't look like it could hold much. Swindle shared a glanced with Dredge, who looked on in trepidation, before opening the box to reveal its contents.

An energon-stained T-cog.

Swindle looked up at Dredge, who just sat there, waiting for him to make a price. "Okay, first off, where the frag did you get this from?" Swindle asked, wanting to know if the police were after a murderer that was standing in front of him.

"You're looking at the former owner," Dredge replied solemnly.

"You ripped out your own T-cog?" Swindle asked.

"Yeah. I don't have much use for it now, considering I'm just a deadbeat to the world," Dredge replied back. "You don't have to worry about accidental damage on it; I know how to cut into a body, thank you very much," he told him, looking down at the scar on his chest from the surgery.

"But, you don't have any anesthesia on you. Did you do it without any?" Swindle asked. Dredge gives a nod at that.

"Yes, and it was very painful," the customer said, remembering that he needed to rest for the whole day afterwards, because the pain was too unbearable after he completed the surgery. He didn't sleep at all that night. "So, how much?" he asked again, getting back on track. Swindle looked at the organ in question. He grabbed it and looked at it closely. "And don't try to jip me. I know T-cogs are worth quite a bit, so don't say it's worthless," Dredge added.

"Nice to know that you can trust me," Swindle replied back sardonically, not looking away from the T-cog.

"Sorry," Dredge immediately said after that. "I've been a customer of yours for years. I don't know why I don't trust you," Dredge said, twitching and wringing his hands.

"Must be withdrawal symptoms," Swindle hypothesized. Of course, the truth of the matter was he really _shouldn'_ t trust him. "Are you sure you don't want some drugs to combat your withdrawal and tried to go clean," Swindle asked. It didn't matter to Swindle which way he answered. Either way, this was probably the last time he was going to see Dredge.

"Swindle, look at me. Even if I do kick the habit, my systems are already shutting down. I'm going to die soon. There's nothing more anybody can do to help," Dredge mournfully said, sagging in his chair.

"Aren't there any other methods you can use? Isn't there clinics who can fix you up for free?" Swindle asked, putting the T-cog back in the box.

"They're too busy with that bombing yesterday. They are absolutely full and don't have any time to deal with me," Dredge explained.

"Oh, yeah. I remember that. Took place in a government building, right?" Swindle asked, the smile never leaving his face. Of course, he already knew where it planted. He did supply the bomb after all.

"Yeah. Casualties were 96 last I check. Could be more with how the injured are dealt with," Dredge informed him. "I wish I could go help, but my hands aren't what they used to be," Dredge said, glancing at his rusted hands. Cutting myself open was sloppy, but I still got it undamaged, right?" he asked, seeking Swindle's appraisal. Swindle glanced at those hands of his before answering his question.

"You did excellent," Swindle replied. "I'll have to clean to clean it up a bit, but it'll catch quite a bit on the black market," Swindle said, closing the lid and putting it behind the desk. "Of course, you don't me sprouting praise for your exceptional work. You want the amount right?" Swindle asked.

"Oh, don't worry. I hadn't heard a compliment in a long time," Dredge said, feeling comforted.

"You were brilliant back in the day!" Swindle said, continuing with buttering him up. "I remember you patch me up after that one time I got stabbed by an unruly customer and you fixed me right up. And that was _after_ you lost your medical license," Swindle replied, remembering it fondly.

"Ah, yes," Dredge said, a smile faintly appearing on his face. "It cut one of you major fuel lines in your chest and grazed your fuel pump. You were bleeding quite profusely," Dredge replied. "It was quite challenging, with all of your energon in the way. It was a good job," Dredge remembered, comforted in his nostalgia.

"Well, it might have been fun for you, but I was bleeding like a stuck turbofox," Swindle replied. "That was a very painful experience," he remembered with a look of comprehension. "If it wasn't for you, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation," Swindle murmured darkly.

"Yes, we probably wouldn't," he agreed, his face returning to an impassive look. "So, how many?" he asked.

"I'd say at least 30 hits. Maybe more if the bidding goes up," Swindle replied, getting up and heading for a box. He opened it and counted under his breath. "Alright," he said, bringing the box and laying it on the desk. "This is twenty hits of the stuff. You can come back later when I sell it and get a correct amount on how much you need," Swindle informed him.

"That sounds like a good plan," Dredge said, standing up and offering his hand out for Swindle to shake. Swindle took it with both hands and shook it mightily.

"Glad to see you again," Swindle replied earnestly. If this was their last meeting, he might as well end it on good terms. "Come back anytime."

"If you haven't switched your location again. You know that it's a pain in the aft for me to find you, right?" he asked jokingly, before coughing a bit.

"Hey, I gotta avoid the police somehow," Swindle replied. "Staying in one will get you killed in my line of work," Swindle told him.

""Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, have a good day Swindle," he said, taking a box and got ready to leave. However, before he left, Swindle noticed something.

"Hey, I think a bit of energon is dripping from your mouth," Swindle pointed out. Dredge paused mid-step and wiped the energon from his mouth. He looked at the stained energon on his arms.

"Well, that's not good," he said before he started coughing again, getting some energon on the floor.

"No kidding. I'm going have to clean that up," Swindle said, getting a laugh from Dredge before coughing some more, landing on his knees and dropping the box away from him. "Scrap, are you alright?" Swindle asked, the smile going away, walking over to him, but was stop when Dredge lifted his hands for him to stop. He kept coughing it up for a little while more, before he finally stop, painting a small area of the floor a blue color.

"I'm going to die sooner than I thought," Dredge said calmly, standing back up.

"Yeah, I guess so," Swindle said, looking at the energon that was dripping down from Dredge's chin and down to his chest. "Are you sure you don't want any many supplies in exchange for the T-cog? You might make it long enough until the clinic can handle their overpopulation problem and get you back to proper shape," Swindle advised. He didn't know why he was trying to save the addict's life. Was it for profit or a long friendship?

"Nah, I've already accepted my death. It's best if I die sooner and meet Primus," Dredge said in an eerie calm. He reached down for his box of syk and started heading for the door again. "Have a good life Swindle," he said.

"Can you wait a second? I have to give you something," Swindle said, heading for a box and reaching into it. Dredge stopped and waited patiently for Swindle to get done. Swindle searched for it, muttering about something until he gave a quick:

"Found it," and retrieved it from the box and walked it over to him. "Here," he said, handing him a syringe filled with a green fluid. "Here, take this. It's another shot of syk with some pain medication in it," Swindle said, offering it to him. Dredge grabbed it and looked at it closely.

"Thanks Swindle, but I don't think there's enough room in the box for it," Dredge said, offering it back. Swindle put his hands back, shaking his head.

"Nah, there's an alley right next to the building with some objects to obscure the view in there. Just go take it in there and wait a little bit for it to take effect. You'll feel a lot better after you use it," Swindle said, a small smile appearing back on his face. "It's the very least I can do for you." Dredge looked apprehensive about accepting the gift, looking a bit guilty.

"If you say so," he said reluctantly. He walked toward the door and removes the locks one by one and a slow, measured pace. With that done, he opened the door and stepped out of it. Swindle walked over, getting ready to close the door behind him. "Swindle," Dredge said, causing Swindle to pause right before he closed the door.

"Yes," he said. Dredge turned to him.

"'Til all are one," he said, turning back and walking off. Swindle watched him left as he murmured to himself:

"'Til all are one."

* * *

Swindle closed the door behind him, the door auto-locking behind him, with the T-cog in the box. He had to head back to his actual residence over in the towers district. It was growing dark and people were heading to recharge for the day, which meant there was hardly any customers. He was probably going have to move soon. It's been a month and he had heard rumors that police were getting close to figure out his location.

Swindle stepped out into the outside, the sun shining into his optics as it descended out of view. Swindle ignored it, heading right. Before he headed to towers, he needed to check something first. He had to see if his plan worked. He walked for a short distance before he reached what he wanted: the alley next to the building he was in. He walked in, heading to the two dumpsters in the middle. Swindle didn't have to go far before he saw a pair of feet from the two dumpsters. Swindle continued walking until he reached the area between two, revealing the corpse of Dredge, sitting with his back to the wall.

Swindle looked down at the body for a second before reaching down and grabbing the box. He looked inside to see that all of the syk was still there, unused. Swindle looked around the body to see the syringe he given him next to his body, empty. Swindle didn't mention the fast-acting virus he put in it that disabled the body systems in a way that acted like the body naturally gave out. The person affected with it would have thought he was going into recharge when his CPU was actually shutting down for good, unable to operate the body. It was something Swindle loved: hard-to-notice, fast-acting, and cheap.

Swindle looked at the body of Dredge, who had a small smile on his face. Almost like he knew he was going to die. He may have known he was injecting poison into himself, but he didn't care. He gave up on himself a long time ago. His life was ruined by a drug habit he couldn't kick. A habit that Swindle provided happily.

Swindle walked away from the body, heading into the streets with a box in his hand. Dredge and him were friends, Swindle will admit to that. He ruined his life, he'll admit to that as well. It wasn't the first friend's life he ruined, and it properly wouldn't be the last.

The least Swindle could do was end his suffering himself.


End file.
